Lyria Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by WelshGirl4Life
Summary: On her eleventh birthday, Lyria Potter received some important news that changed her life forever. Getting thrown into a new world, Lyria and her new friends have to make their way past many obstacles to find the Philosopher's stone before you know who does. Saving Hogwarts and effectively the wizarding world as well.


**I don't own Harry Potter**

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"Up! Get up you stupid girl."

The familiar screeching and banging on the small door that belonged to the cubard under the stairs, where a small, frail girl who looked a lot younger that she actually was due to lack of food and care, was currently trying to block out her aunt screaming for her to get a move on her chores.

For ten years Lyria Lillian Potter had been the subject of her relative's hatred. Her Aunt and Uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley as well as their extremely overweight son Dudley Dursley hated anything that was the slightest bit abnormal. And in their eyes Lyria was about as abnormal as people got, although Lyria couldn't figure out why. She had done everything they had asked her to do, although at first, she'll admit, she did rebel a bit.

At times, it seemed as though her aunt and uncle was watching her contently, as though waiting for her to sprout an extra head. Not knowing what the real reason was, Lyria figured it was probably because her aunt was waiting for her to do something that would end up leaving her without food for a week. And Lyria knew that as far as Aunt Petunia was concerned, the less money she had to spend on the girl the better.

With a heavy sigh, Lyria swept her hand around her small, dust filled room searching for the small, old pair of circular glasses that she knew she had placed beside her the night before, but for some reason they seemed to have disappeared completely. After finding them at the bottom of the small mat that she called abed, she wiped the glass clean with the fabric of her too big grey shirt that had once belonged to her overweight cousin Dudley. Being extra careful of the sellotape that had been wrapped around the bridge of her glasses. Her cousin Dudley had made it his personal duty to break them at every chance he got.

The sound of heavy feet stomping on the stairs caused her to look up and frown as dust and spiders rained down on her. Having lived in the tiny cubard for ten years, she had gotten used to tiny creatures that shared the living space with her.

"Hurry up Potter! I'm hungry,"

Sighing, Lyria crawled out of the small space she called a room and began to make her way into the kitchen. Only to be stopped by her cousins giant hand pushing her back into her cupboard and slammed the door in her face. Her cousin's cackles died out as he entered the kitchen when his mother started fussing over him.

"Happy Birthday my duddykins, we have a special day planned out..."

Whatever her aunt had said after that was lost on Lyria's ears. She groaned and hit her head on the cubard door repeatedly, a habit she had picked up over the years to stop herself from trying to do something to Dudley that would probably end up getting her stuck in her cubard for a month without food, no matter how much she believed Dudley deserved someone to set him right, she still needed food. With a sigh, she pushed her way out of the cubard and into the kitchen. Preparing herself for the horror that was her cousins birthday.

"What took you so long?" Was the first thing that was said to her when she entered the kitchen. Before she even had a chance to answer, her aunt carried on in her shrill voice. "Never mind, get a start on breakfast. I want everything to be perfect for my darling duddykins birthday."

Lyria quickly got a start on Dudley's usual birthday breakfast (which was basically double the amount of food he usually had), while Dudley struggled to count the amount of presents which covered the dining room and part of the kitchen's floor.

"How many are there?" He asked turning to his walrus of a father.

"Thirty six." Came the proud reply.

"That's two less than last year!" Lyria rolled her eyes at her cousin's antics; she was surprised he could even count that far. Quietly placed the now cooked food onto Aunt Petunia's china dinner plates and quickly carried them over to the dinner table. Being extra careful not to drop anything.

"But some of them are bigger than last year's." Uncle Vernon protested.

"I don't care how big they are!"

"We'll get you three more presents when we go to the zoo later sweetheart, how does that sound?" Aunt Petunia said, trying to calm down her son.

Dudley grunted as an answer and sat down heavily at the dinner table and began stuffing his mouth with the various foods on his plate. Lyria realized with a smirk, that it was at moments like this that Dudley really did look like the pig she had been comparing him to since she was six.

Not that you could blame her, Dudley's pink skin stood out against dark blond hair which lay uselessly on top of his head. His beefy body held so much fat, that Lyria normally watched him out of the corner of her eye at meal times, hoping that one day he'd eat so much he'd explode. But he never did, much to her disappointment.

Dudley Dursley also looked a lot like his father Vernon; they had the same hair colour, same squinty eyes and even the same body shape. The only difference was that although Dudley looked like a pig, Uncle Vernon looked like a walrus.

He hardly had any neck to hold his head up and had a blond moustache that wobbled almost comically whenever he talked or ate. Lyria had decided when she was young that when her uncle got angry, as well as it being terrifying, it was also quite funny. He went from pink, to red, to purple so quickly you'd have thought that he would have fallen unconscious with the amount of blood that rushed to his head. He was almost three times the size of his son, and just as lazy. They only times she had seen him move was whenever he had to go to work, eat, go to bed, or yell at her. Otherwise he just sat in front of the telly watching the news. Vernon Dursley also had the most boring job in the world, in Lyria's opinion. He worked in a place called Grunnings, what he did there Lyria didn't know. All she knew was that Grunnings made drills, which to her was very boring.

Aunt Petunia on the other hand was the polar opposite of Dudley and Vernon Dursley. She was tall and so thin and her neck was so insanely long that one look at her and you would think that she was related to a giraffe. And Lyria had seen her aunt countless of times peeking into their next door neighbours conservatory looking for any gossip that would be good enough to pass along the street, although she always denied it whenever someone brought the subject up. She had never worked once in her life, as far as Lyria was concerned. Ever since Lyria was old enough to be able to hold things without any help, Aunt Petunia made sure that she was put to work instantly.

It was Lyria's job to make sure that the house was clean, food had to be on the table at the right times, the garden had to be in perfect condition and above all whenever there were guests, she had to pretend she didn't exist. Some people would say that the Dursley's treatment of their niece was cruel, but in Lyria's eyes it was actually alright. After all, she knew it could be worse and she also knew that if she did everything without complaint and if she finished her chores when she was meant to then the Dursley's wouldn't bother her.

Unfortunately, the Dursley's were her only living relatives, as far as she knew of. Her aunt Petunia had been her mother's sister, but she refused to tell Lyria anymore than that. Lyria had only managed to get aunt Petunia to tell her how her parents had died. They had apparently died in a car crash when her father had been drunk driving, Lyria didn't believe it, something inside of her disagreed with that. She didn't believe her father was a drunk, but she guessed that her parents dying in a car crash might have happened. Even if it wasn't because of drunk driving. It was the only way she could explain the lightning bolt scar on her forehead.

It was one of the things she hated about herself. Her black hair always hung to below her shoulders, and no matter how much she tried she couldn't get it to lay flat. She had been forced to tie her hair up with an old shoe lace until her aunt gave in and bought her a proper hair bobble. Her emerald green eyes were covered by thin round glasses, which her cousin loved to make a point and break them, and as her aunt and uncle refused to by her a new pair after Dudley broke the third pair (Although neither her aunt nor uncle believed that their little _duddykins _would ever do something like that), she had been forced to use sellotape around the bridge of her glasses. She stood out easily so people always noticed her, especially when she was forced to go out with her relatives, she looked nothing like them. What with her second hand, baggy clothes and their new and fashionable clothes. She felt left out; she never got to experience the same luxuries her relative's did. As far as they were concerned, the less money they spent on her the better.

As she sat down at the table to eat the small portion of food her aunt allowed her to have, the phone rang. Aunt Petunia rose delicately from the table and trotted out into the hall to where the phone was still ringing shrilly.

An awkward silence covered the table, broken only by the noise of Dudley ripping open his presents and giving either noises of disgust or mild enthusiasm. Uncle Vernon couldn't keep his eyes off his son, and every now then he murmured something that sounded vaguely like 'That's my boy' and 'just like his father'. Lyria had to agree, Dudley was like his father in every way, snobbish, bratty, spoilt and a bully. Every year he seemed to become more and more like his father, which didn't exactly comfort Lyria.

The silence was broken by Aunt Petunia walking back into the room looking like someone had walked all over her begonia's.

"Bad news Vernon, Mrs. Figg can't look after her," Aunt Petunia stated as though Lyria wasn't even in the same room as them. "She fell down and broke her leg."

Hearing this Dudley looked up from unwrapping his horde of presents and looked at his mother in anger.

"What?"

"Mrs. Figg broke her leg falling over one of her cat's yesterday morning. She only just came back from the hospital. Oh, Vernon what are going to do?" Aunt Petunia cried.

"Can't you're friend down the road take her?" Uncle Vernon suggested.

"She's gone to Tahiti with her husband for their anniversary." Came the answer. "What about Marge? Can't she come and get her?"

Her husband shook his head.

"Gone to Brighten for the summer. And beside's Marge hates the girl." _The feeling's mutual_ Lyria thought.

"Looks like we have to take her with us." Lyria's head snapped up, they never took her anywhere nice. Whenever Lyria's aunt and uncle took Dudley and his friends to a theme park or to the cinema for his birthday, they always made sure that Lyria was stuck at Mrs. Figgs house with her many, many cats. She was always forced to look at photo albums with pictures of Mrs. Figgs cat's old and new. She was then forced to eat stale chocolate cake that she was sure might have been nice when it had been first cooked but for some reason it was always stale whenever she was forced to eat a slice.

"She doesn't have to come into the zoo with us. We could always leave her in the car."

"We're not going to leave her in the car. It's brand new!"

Dudley must have decided that his father's words were his cue to throw a temper tantrum.

"She ruins everything!" He screamed.

Aunt Petunia instantly went to her weeping son to try and calm him down.

"There's nothing we can do pumpkin. No one will take her."

"You could just leave me here," Lyria spoke up. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon turned to look Lyria with matching scowls, while Dudley continued to howl into his mother's shoulder. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Lyria slouched down in her chair and started to stab at her eggs grumpily. '_At least I tried,' _she thought, '_Although it would have been nice they agreed to let me stay home.'_

The door bell suddenly rung which caused Lyria to jump and end her train of thoughts.

"Oh, that'll be the Polkiss'." Aunt Petunia exclaimed. But then added as an afterthought "Clear up girl. We don't want to give the Polkiss' the wrong impression."

Lyria snorted quietly as she watched the Dursley's prepare them to greet their guests. Dudley stopped crying instantly, Uncle Vernon wiped away his breakfast which had gotten caught in his moustache and Aunt Petunia wiped her dress down, getting rid of the non-existent dirt and made sure her hair was still up in its over the top hair do.

Clearing the table, Lyria made her way to the kitchen sink while listening to her aunt greet Mrs. Polkiss and her son Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend and right hand man. She shivered slightly as she thought about all the taunting she received from both of them, it was always the two of them who made fun of her while the rest of their gang mates hung back and watched with glee. It normally ended with Lyria running away after insulting Dudley and his friends, although it normally took them a few minutes to figure out what she had said so she always managed to get a head start without them wanting to give her one.

Dudley and Piers greeted eachother by punching eachother on the arms, something Lyria didn't understand at all. Dudley and Piers ended up going into the living room to watch TV while the adults talked. Mainly Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon assuring Mrs. Polkiss that Piers would be safe with them.

When finally left, Aunt Petunia went to get Dudley and Piers into Uncle Vernon's way to expensive car while Uncle Vernon cornered Lyria in the kitchen.

"Since no one will take you in, we'll have to take you with us." He flinched as though the thought of being seen with his niece pained him, which it probably did. "So I want you on your best behavior."

"Yes sir," Lyria nodded

"So no funny business, is that clear?" Again, the petite girl nodded. "Good. Now get in the car. The sooner we leave the sooner we can find a parking space."

The ride to the zoo was uncomfortable to say the least. Lyria ended up squashed in between Piers and Dudley, and had to put up with them poking her and knocking her around the small amount of space she had available.

At one point, while they were stuck in traffic, a motorbike had sped down the middle of down the middle of the two lanes full of cars stuck in place. This caused Uncle Vernon to grumble under his breath about hooligans and how dangerous motorbikes were.

"I had a dream about motorbike," Lyria piped up, not really thinking about what she was saying as she was remembering the odd dream. "It could fly."

"Motorbikes. Don't. Fly!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, turning around in his seat to face her. His face had turned an unnatural shade of purple, as it always did whenever he was angry.

"I-I know they don't, it was just a dream. I-"

But it was futile; the first mention of something un-natural sent Uncle Vernon into a fit of rage. He never listened to reason whenever he lost control, just kept blabbering on about how 'the world's abnormalities should be hunted down to rid us of their unnaturalness', as Uncle Vernon kindly put it.

Lyria shrunk down in her seat, wanting to turn invisible or better yet, drop dead. Either way, she wished she was anywhere else other than where she was. Listening to Uncle Vernon's raging yells and Piers' and Dudley's snicker's.

She wished that someone would come and take her away.

'_Any where would be better than here' _She thought.


End file.
